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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414704">A Worthy Question</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverSquirrely/pseuds/EverSquirrely'>EverSquirrely</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), The Only Ship is Mentorship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:42:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverSquirrely/pseuds/EverSquirrely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanneman chuckled to himself. “You know, we are more alike than you think.”</p><p>The young cad spilled tea when he had the audacity to laugh. “Sorry, Professor, it just… I doubt it.”<br/></p><hr/><p>Hanneman, the head of the Blue Lions house, tries to connect with his student Sylvain. While it frustrates Hanneman to no end, he can't seem to get the ne'er-do-well to apply his remarkable mind. That is, until a tragedy seizes Sylvain with a question he can't seem to find an answer for.</p><p>Spoilers for Chapter 5 - Tower of Black Winds</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Worthy Question</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sorry I’m late.” Sylvain breezed into Hanneman’s office, clearly not sorry in the least. He dropped lazily into the chair across Hanneman, flashing one of his “winning” smiles.</p><p>Hanneman neither forgave nor admonished the youth. A small slip of parchment on his desk had the agenda for this afternoon. Or rather, it listed the names of women who had complained to Hanneman about Sylvain’s behavior. Hanneman certainly intended to address it, but the academic in him had a hypothesis to test first.</p><p>“Tea?” Hanneman offered.</p><p>“Yeah, sure!” Sylvain planted his hands on the back of his head, stretching his shoulders.</p><p>Hanneman poured the Bergamot into his glass.</p><p>“Hey, did you know this was my favorite tea?” Sylvain savored a sip from his glass.</p><p>“Oh! I did not,” Hanneman admitted. “It’s a favorite of mine as well.” Hanneman chuckled to himself. “You know, we are more alike than you think.”</p><p>The young cad spilled tea when he had the audacity to laugh. “Sorry, Professor, it just… I doubt it.”</p><p>Hanneman raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m old?”</p><p>“No, no, no,” Sylvain murmured dismissively. “Just… you’re more serious.” Sylvain smoothly slid a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaning the spill quickly.</p><p>Hanneman chuckled again. “That is a fine handkerchief.” From his own pocket, Hanneman produced a similar one, crimson silk with a soft design. “I have something of a collection. A remaining indulgence from my noble days, I suspect.”</p><p>Sylvain awkwardly hid his handkerchief, as though it proved beyond a doubt he was no different from Hanneman. Clearing his throat, Sylvain said, “I didn’t know you were born into nobility.”<br/>
“Yes.” Hanneman took another sip of his tea. “I renounced my title some time ago. I left Enbarr to pursue my crest research in earnest.”</p><p>Sylvain nursed his tea, obviously considering what to say. When he sighed, some of his airs seemed to disappear. “With all due respect, Professor, I try to spend as little time thinking about crests as possible. And since I know it’s your life's work, I just don't want to waste your time.”</p><p>Hanneman suspected as much. But he had a mission, and he felt compelled to go deeper. “Is that a result of your upbringing?” Hanneman leaned back, crossing his arms. “I have heard that House Gautier has placed more extreme importance on crests.”</p><p>Sylvain groaned, burying a hand in his hair. “That’s putting it lightly.” Shaking his head, Sylvain muttered, “It’s no secret that my parents disinherited my brother after I was born. His crime? Not having a crest.”</p><p>Hanneman already knew as much. One does not become the “Father of Crestology” without collecting some of the intrigues of nobles. “My former house, House Essar, was much the same,” Hanneman offered. “House Essar has a strong lineage of crests, particularly the crest of Indech. My sister, however, had none. She was married off like a breeding mare to some noble hoping to produce children with crests.”</p><p>Sylvain sighed. “Would it actually have been that different if she had one? I’m pretty much destined to be a stud horse for crest babies.”</p><p>Hanneman had not honestly considered that. It drew a long sigh from a familiar well of grief. “You seem unusually resigned.” </p><p>“What’s the point in fighting it?” Sylvain’s words held fire, his face held anger, but his voice had already given up. “I already know my future. Return to Gautier, take ownership of the Lance of Ruin, and make crest babies so my heir can lead House Gautier, take ownership of the Lance of Ruin, yaddah yaddah yaddah.”</p><p>Perhaps it was the appropriate time for his ace in the hole. Hanneman took another sip, before saying, “Is that why you spend your time tormenting your female classmates rather than studying?”</p><p>The surprise broke the anger from Sylvain’s face. “Tormenting? What?” Sylvain cleared his throat. “It’s just playful, fun flirting.”</p><p>“Curious,” Hanneman replied. “I can’t imagine a student who would report ‘playful, fun flirting’ to an old curmudgeon such as myself.”</p><p>Sylvain’s cheeks warmed, and he slumped into his chair.</p><p>“As you have ample free time to get up to mischief, I have a proposition for another way to pass your time.”</p><p>“Great,” Sylvain muttered.</p><p>Hanneman watched Sylvain closely when he said, “You will assist me in my crest research for this month.”</p><p>Interesting. Sylvain’s face seemed to fill with genuine fear. “Have you listened to a word I’ve said?” Sylvain stammered. “I don’t care about crests. Crests ruined my brother's life. They’ll probably ruin my life. So what if I flirt. I’ll never know if anyone gives two shits about me, or if they’re just fishing for my crest.” Sylvain slumped back into the chair, not meeting Hanneman’s eye. The fire had returned to his voice. “My whole life is crests crests crests. Just make me clean the damn stables.”</p><p>Hanneman sipped his own tea pensively. “Do you know why I study crests?”</p><p>“To advance the field of Crestology.” Sylvain said it with a strange flourish. Was the ne’er-do-well trying to imitate him? </p><p>“Deeper,” Hanneman leaned forward. “Do you know why I intend to advance the field of Crestology?”</p><p>Sylvain sighed. “Because you’re obsessed with crests?”</p><p>“Deeper.”</p><p>“What, glory? Money?”</p><p>Hanneman sighed in frustration. Sylvain had a remarkable mind, and clearly little interest in using it. “The nature of research is not answers, it’s questions. Any fool can find an answer, true or not. But a worthy question…” Hanneman heard the excitement mounting in his voice as he smiled. “You can ask the same question for a lifetime and learn so much of the world.”</p><p>Sylvain watched Hanneman boredly.</p><p>Still, Hanneman continued. “I began my research with a simple question - are there ways to manifest the benefits of crests, regardless of whether or not you are born with one?”</p><p>Sylvain shook his head. “What, so every noble can buy the crests they want without abusing their kids?”</p><p>Hanneman nearly leapt to his feet. “No, look deeper!” He seldom spoke of this, but some fire compelled him. “Reason through it! Consider why I, the foremost scholar in crests, might abandon my peerage. My title would have provided me with credibility and the estate of my house. Why would I renounce it?”</p><p>“I don’t… I don’t know you,” Sylvain stammered. “How could I possibly know that?”</p><p>“You are reaching for answers before asking the question,” Hanneman snapped. “Perhaps, as someone who grew up in a house similarly obsessed with crests, who saw the effect it had on your own family, and your own relationships, you could propose a theory based simply on why you yourself might ever consider it.”</p><p>Sylvain stared at him. Hanneman could see the gears turning as Sylvain examined him. Hesitantly, Sylvain said, “Because I didn’t like the future I had, and I wanted a better one.”</p><p>That would have to do. “Precisely.” Hanneman settled back into his chair. “Surely, as Hanneman Von Essar, if I had made the sort of discoveries I hope to make, then the outcome would be exactly as you described. Nobles would simply pay the right price, confining them as a luxury for those who had the power to acquire one. But consider, Sylvain. What would it mean if <em> anyone </em> could have a crest?”</p><p>“Anyone?” Surprise woke on Sylvain’s face. “I… I guess my father would have had no reason to disinherit Miklan.”</p><p>So close, how did he remain on the surface? “<em> Deeper </em>,” Hanneman challenged.</p><p>Sylvain groaned loudly. “You and that word-! I don’t… Ugh, maybe I don’t want to go deeper!” He shook his head quickly. “Are you torturing me? I’ll be good. I swear.”</p><p>Perhaps this was all the progress Hanneman could hope to make. “Consider what I said,” Hanneman offered as a parting thought. “For now, if I hear any reports - and I do mean <em> any </em> - from your classmates of undesired flirtations-”</p><p>Sylvain sighed, avoiding Hanneman’s eye. “I know, I know, you’ll force me to study crests.”</p><p>“- You will be forced to clean the stables for a month.”</p><p>Sylvain’s jaw actually dropped. “Wait, you did that whole speech, just to change your mind?”</p><p>Hanneman sighed helplessly. “It would be fitting after your disrespectful behavior to your classmates to force you, but I simply am unwilling to weaponize my research to that end.” Hanneman drummed his fingers on the table. “Have you ever mucked out a stable?”</p><p>Sylvain cleared his throat. “...No.”</p><p>“Oh good,” Hanneman replied. “It should do perfectly.” Hanneman took another sip of his tea, swallowing nervously. “However, I will not force you. Should you ever choose to, I would happily welcome you as my assistant. And in the meantime… Do consider if there are any questions you find yourself returning to. Perhaps that can provide purpose.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Within a week of their meeting, Hanneman received a complaint from a student about Sylvain’s behavior, and he was mucking out the stables. Hanneman made sure Cyril provided no aid, to ensure Sylvain endured his punishment.</p><p>Months passed. Sylvain remained detached. Hanneman caught him discussing Reason with Annette, but Sylvain never brought it up to him. The times Hanneman did speak with Sylvain, Sylvain remained the flippant, carefree character he played so well.</p><p>The year dragged into Horsebow Moon. Hanneman’s thoughts had turned to the Crest of Flames and the Sword of the Creator, and the implications thereof. He pored over documents on his desk late into the evening. A knock at his door tore him from thoughts.</p><p>“Sylvain?” Hanneman remarked, opening it.</p><p>Sylvain didn’t bother with pleasantries. Dark circles haunted his eyes, and he walked past Hanneman into his office. “I keep... I keep telling myself that Miklan was a shithead and there was no other way. Maybe before, sometime in the past, he could have been… there was a chance... but…” Sylvain turned quickly, eyes pleading. “He’s done horrifying things, and you can’t come back from that.”</p><p>Ah. Yes. Lady Rhea had sent the new Professor and their class to retrieve the Lance of Ruin. The endeavor had been veiled by secrecy, but one detail was clear - Miklan Gautier, Sylvain’s brother, had been executed as a result.</p><p>“Sit,” Hanneman said softly. </p><p>Sylvain didn’t obey immediately. He paced the room, a tired sort of manic. “But I kept thinking about the… deeper, deeper, I kept hearing your damn voice saying deeper, and it just kept nagging me.” Sylvain finally sat in the chair, eyes fixed on the edge of Hanneman’s table. “Why do I even give a shit? He tried to kill me. More than once!” He barely looked at Hanneman. He seemed to be pleading, but with himself. “And Miklan <em> did </em> kill people. He killed so… so many, so why would I… why can’t I accept this?”</p><p>Sylvain finally met Hanneman’s eyes. He looked so young and lost and confused. </p><p>Hanneman recognized those eyes.</p><p>Swallowing, Hanneman asked, “Did your line of questioning yield any hypotheses?”</p><p>“Just more fucking questions!” Sylvain dropped his head back, rubbing his face.</p><p>Hanneman nodded. “Ah yes,” he murmured, looking away. “That is often the nature of research.”</p><p>Sylvain’s groan carried weariness beyond his years. “Well, I hate it. Answers are nice, answers are simple.”</p><p>Hanneman nodded thoughtfully. “But do you believe the answers?”</p><p>Sylvain blinked, shaking his head. “What?”</p><p>“You could have your answer,” Hanneman sighed. “Miklan lost his chance at grace by his actions, which were his alone. Therefore, whatever his history, he deserved his fate.”</p><p>That stunned Sylvain. Again, his mind seemed to be kneading the question, examining it, experiencing it. “But what if it had been reversed?” Sylvain murmured. “What if he had been born with the crest? Would I even have been born, if they got the crest they needed in the first place? Would Miklan have had any reason to be so angry?” His words quickened, tumbling out in a flood. “He would have been the heir, and maybe I was just an extra? Would I have been disowned? Would I have been married off to see if I might still somehow make crest babies? Would I have been welcome in the home, just… this extra, purposeless brother?”</p><p>Hanneman waited to be sure Sylvain had finished. He could see on his face the questions still roiled. Hanneman drew in a steadying breath. “I renounced my nobility when my sister died.” Saying the words, even years removed, still tightened his throat. “I had been disgusted for years by the culture around crests. And her husband, a foul man, treated her with such contempt...”</p><p>Sylvain watched him closely, but he offered nothing.</p><p>“Well,” Hanneman swallowed. “Grief tears at you with so many questions. I asked myself, why did I feel alone in my grief? Why did the so-called nobility accept her suffering? Did they believe she deserved it? Why did no one else see her worth?” The heaviest question caught in his throat. It took a moment before he could say it. “What else could her life have been?”</p><p>Hanneman had intended to continue after he composed his emotions. The moisture lingering in his eyes reminded him that the cut, no matter how old, could still bleed.</p><p>Sylvain broke the silence. “How much suffering would end if anyone could have a crest?”</p><p>They held each other’s eyes for a moment. The implications of the question sat heavily between them. Hanneman smiled sadly. “A worthy question indeed.”</p><p>Sylvain nodded. “I’ll help.” Shrugging, he added, “I don’t… I don’t think I’ll be that helpful, I’m not great at asking these questions.”</p><p>“You are doing just fine,” Hanneman replied. “Besides, could it be that you only needed purpose?”</p><p>Sylvain nodded, standing. With a sigh, he said, “I guess that’s a worthy question too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This honestly started when I realized how much Sylvain and Hanneman had in common. I may try and do a collection of unlikely mentors - though they never had supports, I think they could have been really good together!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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